X-Men: Dark Moon
A FanFic by: Artemis Hunter
Synopsis: In Europe, another branch of Xavier's X-men is struggling to remain hidden from enemy eyes. Could the appearances of a young girl with an unusual gift, an American bounty hunter with a past, and the powerful mutant Magneto cause a chain of events that could force them in the open?
Here's the normal disclaimer: ***Any X-Men characters are the sole property of their creators at Marvel
(aka Stan Lee, etc) ***
Most of these are my original characters, though, so please don't
plagiarize my work!
Now on to the story!
Chapter 1 The Hunt
--------------------------------------------------------------
Racing through the damp, moonlit streets of Milan, Italy, she sped past alleyways and shops, glancing behind to make sure she had lost them. Gasping for breath, squinting against the rain, she urged herself forward, knowing that a second's rest could cost her the advantage.
She stumbled and plowed through a gathering of people at a fountain near the center of the main square. Regaining her footing, she continued her escape into the depths of the city, heading towards a massive cathedral towering over the horizon...
--------------------------------------------------------------
A compact, silver convertible turned into the final main roadway before screeching to a halt at the entrance into the historical Milan district. The driver, a bulky American man of Asian decent, craned his neck to search the brick-laden streets ahead. "Where is she?"
A young British woman beside him covered her eyes from the light rain and adjusted the small personal headset she was wearing. Her deep brown eyes darted around, searching faces for the young girl.
"I don't see her." She pressed the talk button on the side of her microphone. "Arthur, do you have a visual? We lost her..." The woman suddenly paused, her eyes flashing into a white opaque light.
Within a small instant, hundreds of blurred images and emotions assaulted her mind; swarms of people in the streets, laughing, yelling, arguing; the surge of information was overtaking her senses -she forced her vision to become focused on a young woman hiding within the commotion, frightened, rushing through the crowds. She looked about sixteen years old, with straight crimson-red hair pulled back into a rushed bun. Poor girl, she thought for a moment, she has no idea what she's been thrown into... Suddenly her vision rushed forward to a large set of bronze doors, leading in to a towering Gothic Cathedral; she saw the girl enter, nervously glancing over her shoulder.
Just as the heavy doors slammed shut, the church faded into white and then returned to the streets ahead of the car. The woman's vision slowly returned to the present, the normal hum of the city reaching her ears. When her eyes had returned to their normal brown hue, she hurriedly unfastened her seatbelt, reaching behind her to grasp the sword and scabbard lying in the back seat.
"She's heading for the Duomo," she leaped over the car door. "I'm going on foot. Meet you there."
"Wait, Gwen!" it was too late to stop her, for she was already sprinting towards the Gothic cathedral in the distance, sword in hand
"David, what's going on?" a man's voice came over the driver's own headset.
"Gwen's gone on ahead." He shifted into reverse and swung the car back around. "I'll try to head them off."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Gwen paused at the entrance to the Duomo's Piazza. The cathedral stood high at the end of the square, its spires reaching far into the sky, just barely masking the bright light of the moon.
She searched the thinned crowds for a sign of the girl. Just as in her vision, the young woman pushed through the congregations of people, hurrying towards the cathedral.
Sprinting across the expanse of the stone square, Gwen quickly fastened her sword to her side, covering it with her long coat. She cried out as loud as she could in a desperate attempt to call to the girl.
"Moira!"
The girl hesitated for a moment, glancing back over her shoulder, before hurrying into the cathedral doors. Gwen huffed before following her into the immense archway that led inside. Not wanting to disturb or arouse suspicion from the parishioners within, her sprint slowed to a shuffle. She warily headed under the towering bronze archway that led into the immense Gothic Cathedral.
The grand stone archways along the ceiling instinctively drew her eye to the end of the room, which held the Duomo's rounded altar, ornate with marble and bronze religious sculptures. Glancing to the back of the altar, Gwen could see the girl heading up a flight of spiral stairs that led up to the higher reaches of the Cathedral.
In one final dash, Gwen at last caught the girl. At the top, she Moira was leaning over the ledge of a spire against the cold gusts of wind, determined to still find an escape route. She finally spun herself around to face her pursuer.
"What the hell do you want from me?" she demanded with a hushed Irish brogue, her hair blowing in her face from the chilled wind, the moonlight silhouetting her face.
"Moira, I'm not here to hurt you; I'm here to help you."
The girl circled Gwen cautiously, heading once again for the exit. "Of course you are. That's what your friend said too; just before he pulled a gun on me!"
Gwen frowned for a moment. "Friend? What friend..." She was quickly interrupted as another vision invaded her mind.
Moira screamed at the sudden flash from the woman's eyes, stumbling backwards and to the ground. The vision was close, giving Gwen barely enough time to react. She quickly removed a dagger from under her left pant leg, and in a flurry off movement, two bullets aimed from above ricocheted off the blade.
She squinted into the night sky above, barely able to catch a glimpse of the shooter balancing between two small spires before he slid down to the descending buttresses.
Shortly following the shots, Moira returned to her feet and fled the rooftop. Gwen called to her once more to stop the girl from running, before returning her gaze to her last view of the attacker. She activated the communicator on her headset.
"Arthur, she's run off again." Her eye quickly flashed, revealing to her the girl's location. "You can cut her off at the next corner down. And be careful! She's been shaken up a bit."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Arthur Quinn stood at the corner of the street past the cathedral, leaning on an ebony walking cane. Beside him, Deirdre Morgan, a young Irishwoman, blew into her hands nervously, trying to take off the chill in the air.
"What happened?"
Before Gwen could answer him, the young red-headed girl sprinted past them, barely tripping over a curb on her way across the street.
"We see her," Quinn said through his headset, "How do you suggest we stop her?"
"Let Deirdre talk with her."
"What about you?"
"I have another problem to tend to." He frowned and turned to Deirdre, who looked as worried as he felt. He nodded his head, motioning for the young blond woman to follow the runaway. He turned skyward, searching in vain for Gwen on the high cathedral roof.
"Do you need backup?"
"I'll be fine Arthur," Gwen reassured him, "Just protect Moira."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Gwen rushed up the ledges towards the sniper's last position, forcing herself to concentrate. Her senses were now partially immersed in the present and in her visions of the future. She could see every move the stranger would take ahead of her. Gripping the ledge above, she pulled herself up to the next level of spires on the roof.
Silently tracking him, she got the distinct feeling he was completely aware of her moves as well, for she could sense him instinctively pausing on occasion to alter his path upward. Her pace slowed as she felt his presence nearby.
The woman shuffled across a ledge, turning her head from the winds of the high altitude. She could sense the shooter pausing behind the corner as well, and she braced herself for the coming battle. The metallic scratch of her sword as she pulled it from its sheath was barely audible under the roaring of the winds. Step by step, she came closer and closer to the corner...
She quickly swung her sword around to meet the attacker head on. Just as her blade met against the man's neck, she felt the cold metal of a rifle tip just below her chin. After a moment, the two combatants backed away from each other. They circled the wide platform of the cathedral, observing each other cautiously.
Gwen could see the man clearly in the bright moonlight. He didn't seem at all as criminal as she'd expected; he was muscular and tan, obviously American. His presence, though, had a mysterious distinction. His movement gave off a manner of wild authority; something was almost animal about him. She could just make out through the misty rain his bright, golden, wolf-like eyes piercing into hers from under his brimmed fedora. He secured his rifle into a holster strapped to his back and quickly pulled out a large military knife from his boot.
Gwen defiantly glared back as she tightened her grip on her sword hilt. She allowed him make the first move. He leaped towards her in silence, bringing the blade down towards her head. Sensing the attack a fraction of a second earlier, she easily ducked away from the blow.
He quickly regained his footing and prepared for Gwen's counter swing. But instead, she kicked the man's legs from under him, tripping him up against the wall. His rifle slid out of its casing and across the floor, coming to rest just behind Gwen's boot. The tip of her blade came down under his neck and she slowly urged him upward. She dared to step a little closer to him, bringing the broad end of her blade to meet his neck. She noticed the pistol replacing the knife in his hand. Her glassy, illuminated eyes came to meet his.
"Drop the gun."
Silence was his reply, but she swore she heard a distinct growl from under his breath. She released her connection to her visionary state, and forcefully stared at him with her own, naturally brandy eyes.
"Now." She tightened the force behind her blade. The man quickly grasped the sword blade, his fingerless leather glove protecting his hand, and drove her into the adjacent wall. Staggering, she lost her grip on the now slippery hilt, dropping it to the stone floor. He ran towards her, reaching down to grab his gun. Before she could stand up to intercept him, the man thrust the point to her chest, forcing her back down.
Gwen watched his eyes carefully for a moment. She instinctively pulled back and winced, waiting for the man to pull the trigger. But a few moments passed and she wondered if he was simply savoring his victory. She opened her eyes, to find him staring at her, his eyes doubtful, as if he wondered what to do next. She considered him for a moment, and found herself engaged by his feral eyes. Their brief connection was broken as they heard footsteps from above.
He instantly reacted with a look up to the ledge. A flash of light abruptly burst forth, temporarily blinding him.
He howled in pain, and Gwen took this as her signal to strike. Thrusting the rifle into his chin, she released his grip on it and quickly struck him down with the handle. He crumpled to the ground.
The light slowly subsided; Gwen looked up to face Deirdre, who closed her palm, extinguishing the blinding light emanating from it. Quinn came forward from behind the woman to reach for Gwen's hand.
"Honestly, you make these things so difficult..."
She retrieved her sword, re-sheathing it. Grabbing Quinn's hand, she slowly pulled herself up to the ledge. "Did you find her?"
"With a little difficulty, yes. Deirdre was quite the diplomat with the lass."
Gwen leaned against his shoulder for a moment, regaining her composure.
"Are you alright?" Deirdre asked, gazing down at their unconscious assailant.
"I'll be fine." She answered, rubbing her sore neck from the pain of the rifle tip. "Now let's get out of here before our friend here wakes up."
The three started back down the spiral staircase on the rooftop, with Gwen taking one final glance behind. . .
--------------------------------------------------------------
To be continued, please R&R!
A FanFic by: Artemis Hunter
Synopsis: In Europe, another branch of Xavier's X-men is struggling to remain hidden from enemy eyes. Could the appearances of a young girl with an unusual gift, an American bounty hunter with a past, and the powerful mutant Magneto cause a chain of events that could force them in the open?
Here's the normal disclaimer: ***Any X-Men characters are the sole property of their creators at Marvel
(aka Stan Lee, etc) ***
Most of these are my original characters, though, so please don't
plagiarize my work!
Now on to the story!
Chapter 1 The Hunt
--------------------------------------------------------------
Racing through the damp, moonlit streets of Milan, Italy, she sped past alleyways and shops, glancing behind to make sure she had lost them. Gasping for breath, squinting against the rain, she urged herself forward, knowing that a second's rest could cost her the advantage.
She stumbled and plowed through a gathering of people at a fountain near the center of the main square. Regaining her footing, she continued her escape into the depths of the city, heading towards a massive cathedral towering over the horizon...
--------------------------------------------------------------
A compact, silver convertible turned into the final main roadway before screeching to a halt at the entrance into the historical Milan district. The driver, a bulky American man of Asian decent, craned his neck to search the brick-laden streets ahead. "Where is she?"
A young British woman beside him covered her eyes from the light rain and adjusted the small personal headset she was wearing. Her deep brown eyes darted around, searching faces for the young girl.
"I don't see her." She pressed the talk button on the side of her microphone. "Arthur, do you have a visual? We lost her..." The woman suddenly paused, her eyes flashing into a white opaque light.
Within a small instant, hundreds of blurred images and emotions assaulted her mind; swarms of people in the streets, laughing, yelling, arguing; the surge of information was overtaking her senses -she forced her vision to become focused on a young woman hiding within the commotion, frightened, rushing through the crowds. She looked about sixteen years old, with straight crimson-red hair pulled back into a rushed bun. Poor girl, she thought for a moment, she has no idea what she's been thrown into... Suddenly her vision rushed forward to a large set of bronze doors, leading in to a towering Gothic Cathedral; she saw the girl enter, nervously glancing over her shoulder.
Just as the heavy doors slammed shut, the church faded into white and then returned to the streets ahead of the car. The woman's vision slowly returned to the present, the normal hum of the city reaching her ears. When her eyes had returned to their normal brown hue, she hurriedly unfastened her seatbelt, reaching behind her to grasp the sword and scabbard lying in the back seat.
"She's heading for the Duomo," she leaped over the car door. "I'm going on foot. Meet you there."
"Wait, Gwen!" it was too late to stop her, for she was already sprinting towards the Gothic cathedral in the distance, sword in hand
"David, what's going on?" a man's voice came over the driver's own headset.
"Gwen's gone on ahead." He shifted into reverse and swung the car back around. "I'll try to head them off."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Gwen paused at the entrance to the Duomo's Piazza. The cathedral stood high at the end of the square, its spires reaching far into the sky, just barely masking the bright light of the moon.
She searched the thinned crowds for a sign of the girl. Just as in her vision, the young woman pushed through the congregations of people, hurrying towards the cathedral.
Sprinting across the expanse of the stone square, Gwen quickly fastened her sword to her side, covering it with her long coat. She cried out as loud as she could in a desperate attempt to call to the girl.
"Moira!"
The girl hesitated for a moment, glancing back over her shoulder, before hurrying into the cathedral doors. Gwen huffed before following her into the immense archway that led inside. Not wanting to disturb or arouse suspicion from the parishioners within, her sprint slowed to a shuffle. She warily headed under the towering bronze archway that led into the immense Gothic Cathedral.
The grand stone archways along the ceiling instinctively drew her eye to the end of the room, which held the Duomo's rounded altar, ornate with marble and bronze religious sculptures. Glancing to the back of the altar, Gwen could see the girl heading up a flight of spiral stairs that led up to the higher reaches of the Cathedral.
In one final dash, Gwen at last caught the girl. At the top, she Moira was leaning over the ledge of a spire against the cold gusts of wind, determined to still find an escape route. She finally spun herself around to face her pursuer.
"What the hell do you want from me?" she demanded with a hushed Irish brogue, her hair blowing in her face from the chilled wind, the moonlight silhouetting her face.
"Moira, I'm not here to hurt you; I'm here to help you."
The girl circled Gwen cautiously, heading once again for the exit. "Of course you are. That's what your friend said too; just before he pulled a gun on me!"
Gwen frowned for a moment. "Friend? What friend..." She was quickly interrupted as another vision invaded her mind.
Moira screamed at the sudden flash from the woman's eyes, stumbling backwards and to the ground. The vision was close, giving Gwen barely enough time to react. She quickly removed a dagger from under her left pant leg, and in a flurry off movement, two bullets aimed from above ricocheted off the blade.
She squinted into the night sky above, barely able to catch a glimpse of the shooter balancing between two small spires before he slid down to the descending buttresses.
Shortly following the shots, Moira returned to her feet and fled the rooftop. Gwen called to her once more to stop the girl from running, before returning her gaze to her last view of the attacker. She activated the communicator on her headset.
"Arthur, she's run off again." Her eye quickly flashed, revealing to her the girl's location. "You can cut her off at the next corner down. And be careful! She's been shaken up a bit."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Arthur Quinn stood at the corner of the street past the cathedral, leaning on an ebony walking cane. Beside him, Deirdre Morgan, a young Irishwoman, blew into her hands nervously, trying to take off the chill in the air.
"What happened?"
Before Gwen could answer him, the young red-headed girl sprinted past them, barely tripping over a curb on her way across the street.
"We see her," Quinn said through his headset, "How do you suggest we stop her?"
"Let Deirdre talk with her."
"What about you?"
"I have another problem to tend to." He frowned and turned to Deirdre, who looked as worried as he felt. He nodded his head, motioning for the young blond woman to follow the runaway. He turned skyward, searching in vain for Gwen on the high cathedral roof.
"Do you need backup?"
"I'll be fine Arthur," Gwen reassured him, "Just protect Moira."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Gwen rushed up the ledges towards the sniper's last position, forcing herself to concentrate. Her senses were now partially immersed in the present and in her visions of the future. She could see every move the stranger would take ahead of her. Gripping the ledge above, she pulled herself up to the next level of spires on the roof.
Silently tracking him, she got the distinct feeling he was completely aware of her moves as well, for she could sense him instinctively pausing on occasion to alter his path upward. Her pace slowed as she felt his presence nearby.
The woman shuffled across a ledge, turning her head from the winds of the high altitude. She could sense the shooter pausing behind the corner as well, and she braced herself for the coming battle. The metallic scratch of her sword as she pulled it from its sheath was barely audible under the roaring of the winds. Step by step, she came closer and closer to the corner...
She quickly swung her sword around to meet the attacker head on. Just as her blade met against the man's neck, she felt the cold metal of a rifle tip just below her chin. After a moment, the two combatants backed away from each other. They circled the wide platform of the cathedral, observing each other cautiously.
Gwen could see the man clearly in the bright moonlight. He didn't seem at all as criminal as she'd expected; he was muscular and tan, obviously American. His presence, though, had a mysterious distinction. His movement gave off a manner of wild authority; something was almost animal about him. She could just make out through the misty rain his bright, golden, wolf-like eyes piercing into hers from under his brimmed fedora. He secured his rifle into a holster strapped to his back and quickly pulled out a large military knife from his boot.
Gwen defiantly glared back as she tightened her grip on her sword hilt. She allowed him make the first move. He leaped towards her in silence, bringing the blade down towards her head. Sensing the attack a fraction of a second earlier, she easily ducked away from the blow.
He quickly regained his footing and prepared for Gwen's counter swing. But instead, she kicked the man's legs from under him, tripping him up against the wall. His rifle slid out of its casing and across the floor, coming to rest just behind Gwen's boot. The tip of her blade came down under his neck and she slowly urged him upward. She dared to step a little closer to him, bringing the broad end of her blade to meet his neck. She noticed the pistol replacing the knife in his hand. Her glassy, illuminated eyes came to meet his.
"Drop the gun."
Silence was his reply, but she swore she heard a distinct growl from under his breath. She released her connection to her visionary state, and forcefully stared at him with her own, naturally brandy eyes.
"Now." She tightened the force behind her blade. The man quickly grasped the sword blade, his fingerless leather glove protecting his hand, and drove her into the adjacent wall. Staggering, she lost her grip on the now slippery hilt, dropping it to the stone floor. He ran towards her, reaching down to grab his gun. Before she could stand up to intercept him, the man thrust the point to her chest, forcing her back down.
Gwen watched his eyes carefully for a moment. She instinctively pulled back and winced, waiting for the man to pull the trigger. But a few moments passed and she wondered if he was simply savoring his victory. She opened her eyes, to find him staring at her, his eyes doubtful, as if he wondered what to do next. She considered him for a moment, and found herself engaged by his feral eyes. Their brief connection was broken as they heard footsteps from above.
He instantly reacted with a look up to the ledge. A flash of light abruptly burst forth, temporarily blinding him.
He howled in pain, and Gwen took this as her signal to strike. Thrusting the rifle into his chin, she released his grip on it and quickly struck him down with the handle. He crumpled to the ground.
The light slowly subsided; Gwen looked up to face Deirdre, who closed her palm, extinguishing the blinding light emanating from it. Quinn came forward from behind the woman to reach for Gwen's hand.
"Honestly, you make these things so difficult..."
She retrieved her sword, re-sheathing it. Grabbing Quinn's hand, she slowly pulled herself up to the ledge. "Did you find her?"
"With a little difficulty, yes. Deirdre was quite the diplomat with the lass."
Gwen leaned against his shoulder for a moment, regaining her composure.
"Are you alright?" Deirdre asked, gazing down at their unconscious assailant.
"I'll be fine." She answered, rubbing her sore neck from the pain of the rifle tip. "Now let's get out of here before our friend here wakes up."
The three started back down the spiral staircase on the rooftop, with Gwen taking one final glance behind. . .
--------------------------------------------------------------
To be continued, please R&R!